


chasing visions of our futures

by trickshire



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Pining, kinda.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-12 13:22:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19132888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trickshire/pseuds/trickshire
Summary: take me out of this place I'm inbreak me out of this shell-like case I'm inSiete has trouble keeping his cool, when it comes to Six, but that's where he needs it most.





	chasing visions of our futures

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pistolgrip](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pistolgrip/gifts).



> Happy 6/7, everyone! Are you sick of Bleu Clair fics yet? Of course you aren't.

It started as simply wanting to do something, _anything_ , for Six. Well, all right, it was that _and_ the appeal of those measurements and fittings they’d need, Siete isn’t above opportunism when it means getting to appreciate Six’s well-muscled body. But Six still shies away from gifts—from any kind of special consideration or assistance—which means that Siete has to get creative if he wants to dote on the Erune without making him uncomfortable. It was the Grandsky Rumble that gave him the idea for performance matches, and he wasted no time jumping on the excuse when Six returned. At least this way a flashy stage outfit can be something that’s justifiably Eternals business, something that will be useful for the crew, and therefore something Six might actually accept when given to him.

  


Something about dealing with Six has always put Siete in mind of soothing a wild animal. Of course, years spent working with the Eternals didn’t mellow that much, so he shouldn’t have expected anything else. And after all, Six’s difficult, skittish personality is part of the charm. But truthfully, he can’t help being a little disappointed that Six can’t let his guard down, even now that they’re…well. What they are is difficult to define, partly for that very reason. _Boyfriends?_ Six won’t even admit to being friends, let alone placing Siete in a special category of friendship. _Lovers?_ They’d need to actually talk about their feelings for that one to work. _Friends with benefits?_ See note on “boyfriends.”

  


Besides, while their relationship is ill-defined and kept under wraps, Siete doesn’t think he can classify it as something casual just for that. Not when Six kisses him with the same serious, all-consuming attention he gives to any task he decides to undertake, which is both delightful and terrifying to be on the receiving end of. For his part, Siete knows he’s been imprudently partial to Six for a while now, even before they started carrying on in their private niches, and now he’s in deep enough that it’s definitely not casual on his side. He’s not going to question his good fortune in finding reciprocation of any kind in Six. He’s certainly not going to spoil it for himself by contemplating the possibility of an expiration date.

  


* * *

He throws himself into thinking only of the outfit he’s making for Six. Siete won’t accept anything less than perfection. It has to be made of only the finest materials, and it will fit Six like it was made just for him—well, come to that, that’s true already. It has to be comfortable without being drab; it needs to look fierce while accentuating Six’s wild beauty. But it still has to stop short of showing him off. The most important thing about this outfit is that Six needs to feel confident wearing it. Siete knows he would hate to be made into a spectacle, to have that aura of power he wraps around himself stripped away, leaving only the beautiful, vulnerable boy beneath, utterly exposed to his audience.

  


Siete is a deft hand at sewing, so he insists on hand-stitching the whole ensemble. Some childish, stubborn part of him feels like it won’t be right if it doesn’t have his affection for Six darned into every seam.

  


“You don’t have to go to such lengths,” Six tells him, the first time he finds Siete bent over the lengths of fine cloth after lights out. He lets himself into Siete’s room like this, sometimes, in these quiet hours between one day and the next. It’s the only time they get, except those missions they occasionally take without bringing any of their other crewmates, which are much too infrequent for Siete’s taste. “It’s only a costume. A sewing machine would do just as well.”

  


“It’s a hobby of mine,” Siete laughs. He puts his work aside carefully before turning his full attention to the other man. “I have to fill up my spare hours _somehow_ when you’re not around to occupy them. Indulge me.”

  


Six frowns his disapproval, but he doesn’t argue any further. He never does, when it comes to how Siete chooses to handle the Eternals’ affairs. He might complain about Siete’s decisions as their leader, but Six is always scrupulously careful never to do anything that might intrude on that leadership. He offers neither defiance nor advice. But he does take Siete’s hands in his own, turns them over to look at and stretch out his cramped palms, and firmly rubs his thumbs along the well-worn lines scored across them. As Six methodically massages a balm into his sore, reddened fingertips, apparently oblivious to anything but his chosen task, Siete feels a giddy ache thumping in his chest that he tries to ignore.

  


* * *

It gnaws at him, sometimes, how slowly he has to coax Six to him. There are things Siete wants that he knows full well Six can’t give him just yet. There are no dates, no little gifts, no declarations of devotion, no public gestures. What they have now, this awkward, fumbling, tongue-tied _thing_ between them, is more than he expected to begin with, but he selfishly wants still more now that he has it. There’s this intense intimacy to what Six offers him, not just when their bodies twine beneath his bedsheets, but in all their moments of shared solitude; but it feels as if, rather than making a conscious effort at it, Six is running on instinct, doing what feels right at the time, avoiding _thinking_ about just what it is that they’re sharing. While Siete’s not exactly _complaining_ , because there’s plenty of perks in it for him too, it still bothers him that Six can’t seem to even contemplate anything that might fall under the definition of actual _courtship_ instead of simple animal magnetism. And, yes, Siete wants to be courted, and to court Six in return. He craves it more with every touch, every kiss, every embrace they share. It doesn’t have to be much, doesn’t have to make Six uncomfortable, but he longs for at least _something_ to tell him this is real.

  


You have to go slow with wild creatures. Move too far, too fast, and they’ll startle and flee. Possibly forever. Siete isn’t risking that, but he can’t help his impatience. Impatience isn’t a constructive feeling, though, so he channels his frustrated energy into his little project instead of letting it fester into resentment. The gift is the thing that matters right now. If Six will accept a gift for utilitarian reasons, then Siete can hope he’ll soften up enough to accept another for personal reasons. He can hope to coax more out of him. He can hope that this ambiguous thing of theirs will blossom into something more solid than it is right now.

* * *

He’s all nerves the day Six finally tries the finished outfit on. He thinks he does a decent job of hiding it behind his usual jokes and smiles, but when Six finally looks at the result in the mirror he can’t help falling silent, holding his breath, anticipating the Erune’s reaction with equal parts excitement and terror. Siete himself thinks that Six looks just as perfectly gorgeous in it as he’d hoped, but at this moment, Six’s opinion is the only one that matters. _I made it for you. I made it. It’s yours. It’s for you. It’s a gift. Do you like it? Do you like your gift? Do you_ want _your gift?_

  


He knows that he probably looks like a lovesick idiot right now, mooning over his crush—which, to be fair, he is. But Six isn’t watching him. In fact, Six is excruciatingly quiet, just looking at his reflection in silence, shifting this piece and that ever so slightly. Siete finally bursts out, “So, what do you think?” His attempt at smoothing out his tone into his usual casual cheerfulness falls flat; the question comes out sounding thin and strained in his ears, almost desperate.

  


Six’s ears twitch upright, like soldiers hurriedly snapping to attention. Siete wonders if he forgot he wasn’t trying his new clothes on by himself. After a few moments, not looking at Siete, he mumbles, “It’s more comfortable than I thought it would be.”

  


Siete’s heart sinks a little. That’s not what he would call a ringing endorsement, even from someone as reticent as Six. “Ah, all right then! Well, I think it’s a good first attempt, at least.” He can’t let it show. He’s good at not letting it show. “So, what kind of changes do you think—”

  


“It’s _comfortable_ ,” Six repeats over him, his voice suddenly heated. “I’m…comfortable.”

  


It takes Siete a few minutes to follow the implication. Oh. _Oh._ Six isn’t just comfortable, he’s comfortable _looking_ at himself. Which means he likes it. Means he doesn’t feel too exposed. Maybe even means he doesn’t know how to say “thank you” for something that’s supposed to be for the Eternals instead of him. Even if it’s always been for him.

  


Siete doesn’t even try to hide the delighted smile turning up the corners of his mouth. “Well. Well! In that case, I’m glad you like your present,” he says, barely restraining himself from adding something like _babe_ or _honey_. It’s enough, more than enough, that this was a success. Six accepted a gift. Six _likes_ the gift. He can be patient and wait to ease Six into more than that. He’s not going to push his luck farther. He’s not going to get carried away. He has to take it slowly—

  


He slides his hand into Six’s, and when he laces their fingers together for the first time, Six doesn’t flinch away, but hesitates only a moment before he leans into him.

  


“I don’t know how this works,” Six says softly. “Any of this.”

  


“That’s okay,” Siete says, and is relieved to find he means it. “We’ll figure it out.”

**Author's Note:**

> It's been absolute yonks, but I finally finished something worth posting again. Took me long enough, even if I forced this out in a few panicked days after realizing the first 76 day of the year was coming up. ANYWAY this is for Bust, because he's a great friend who works super hard to give us beautiful works and I wanted to give back instead of just Eating for a change. Thanks for reading, fellow travelers, and I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
